


Rain Down On Me

by Starfish



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18355481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starfish/pseuds/Starfish
Summary: Ray woke up with the feeling that something was wrong. He squinted in the dimness, the very wrong dimness of not-his-room. He was very sure it wasn't his room, because his room didn't have dark green curtains on the windows or walls made out of logs with bark still on them ...(Originally posted in December 2004 as part of the dS Seekrit Santa fic exchange.)





	Rain Down On Me

  
  
Ray was floating. It was kind of nice, really -- the loud, obnoxious sounds of the squad room were all faded now, and even Dewey wasn't bothering him. He tried to concentrate on the voices closest to him, in case they were saying anything important.  
  
"... be happy to be of any assistance I can."  
  
"Well, he's got two weeks vacation time. See if you can get him to take at least one before he's too dead to use it."  
  
"I think I can arrange that, Leftenant."  
  
_Leftenant_ , thought Ray. Why does he always _say_ that? Is there a right-tenant?  
  
"I'm sorry, Ray, what did you say?" He felt a hand on his arm. He looked. Hey, it was Fraser's hand. It was warm on his skin below his sleeve.  
  
"Warm."  
  
"Yes, well, it is June, after all. Come on now, upsy-daisy." The hand moved under his arm and pulled upwards, forcing him to stand. He stood.  
  
"Where we going?" he asked, not really caring one way or the other. His eyes kept blinking funny. Weird. "Are we off to see the wizard?"  
  
"No," Fraser said. "Let's start by getting out to the car, all right?"  
  
"Sure," Ray said. He fumbled in his pocket for the keys, pulled them out, and promptly dropped them. "Shit. Sorry."  
  
"No matter," Fraser said as he picked them up. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Ready Freddie," Ray said. He took a step and swayed, almost falling over. "Oops."  
  
"Oh dear," Fraser said. "Here, lean on me."  
  
Ray felt his arm lift up and then it was over someone's shoulders. He looked. Fraser again. Fraser really smelled pretty good, considering. Ray leaned closer and took another sniff.  
  
"Ray?"  
  
"Smells like cookies."  
  
"Ah," Fraser said.  
  
"Better'n fish sticks."  
  
"Yes, thank you," Fraser said. "Let's try walking now, shall we?"  
  
Ray only ran into one desk on the way out of the bullpen, which he thought was a miracle, the way Fraser was yanking him around. They made it to the parking lot, finally, and he was leaned up against the passenger side of his car while Fraser unlocked the door.  
  
"Just stay with me for one more second, Ray, and then I promise I'll let you rest."  
  
"Gonna tuck me in, Fraser?" Ray said as he was manhandled into the front seat. That could be a lot of fun, he tried to say, but the slamming door was the last thing he heard.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Ray woke up with the feeling that something was wrong. He squinted in the dimness, the very _wrong_ dimness of not-his-room. He was very sure it wasn't his room, because _his_ room didn't have dark green curtains on the windows or walls made out of logs with bark still on them ....   
  
"What the hell?" he said, or tried to. It came out as a rasp, and _damn_ , his head hurt. Felt like a bad hangover, except he was pretty sure he hadn't been drinking. He thought back … they'd been working the McGovern case for two weeks straight, but they'd finally cracked it, and … the last thing he remembered was Fraser taking his car keys as they left the bullpen, and ... son of a _bitch._   
  
"Fraser?" he tried. This time it was a little louder, but there was still no answer. He pushed the covers off himself and got out of bed and immediately had to grab for the wall so he didn't fall over. "Jesus," he said as he swayed. After a minute he felt up to walking, and he navigated over to the only door in the room. For a panicked instant he was sure it was locked, but then he tried pulling instead of pushing, and it opened right up. The next room was a little bigger and he could see a couch and a chair in front of a fireplace, and a small kitchen area with a table and four chairs. One door obviously led outdoors, which left door number two, which proved, to his very great relief, to be the bathroom.  
  
"Good thing we got indoor plumbing," he said, feeling vaguely stupid for talking to himself out loud, but needing to hear a familiar voice all the same. He peed and flushed, then went to the sink. A quick check in the mirror as he washed his hands revealed no obvious head wounds, so the mystery of how he'd gotten where he was remained unsolved. "But Fraser's involved somehow," he said to his reflection. It seemed to agree.  
  
Back out into the main room, then, and over to the kitchen. He opened a cupboard and found a collection of mismatched glasses, cups, plates, and bowls. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the faucet, and drank it down fast. It seemed like he could feel the water flowing out into his body, which he figured meant he was pretty dehydrated, so he filled the glass again.  
  
After his third glass, he checked out the ancient refrigerator in the corner. On the shelf inside it was a gallon of milk, five apples, and a carton of eggs. They looked lonely and kind of creepy, so Ray shut the door. His stomach grumbled though, so he opened the fridge back up and grabbed an apple. It was gone in four bites.  
  
Now that he was feeling half-alive rather than half-dead, there was still the unanswered question of where the hell Fraser was, and why the hell he'd basically kidnapped his own partner. Ray had the front door open and was standing in the doorway before he realized he wasn't wearing anything but a t-shirt and boxers.  
  
"Real nice, Frase," he muttered. "At least you let me keep my skivvies." He walked cautiously out into the porch. Except for a rough clearing about a hundred feet square around the front of the cabin, and what might possibly have been a path if you were Daniel-freaking-Boone, all he could see was trees.   
  
A rustling in one tree more-or-less overhead made him jump. A second later a squirrel poked its head out of the leaves and chittered at him. "Fraser?" he yelled, feeling pissed and nervous in equal measure. "This ain't funny, buddy. Where'd you go?"  
  
The squirrel looked at him weirdly, then flipped upside down on the branch and scampered away. Ray listened to the silence until he had to admit Fraser wasn't in yelling distance.   
  
"If he's even out there at all," said Ray out loud. The squirrel said something rude, and Ray decided to go back inside and find his clothes. Maybe see if his gun was around. Just in case.  
  
Back in the bedroom, he spotted his shoes on the floor next to an old trunk. On top of the trunk, draped over the duffle he kept in the car, were his pants and his gun in its holster. He put them all back on and felt better about life. Not good, but better. There was no lock on the trunk, which in Ray's mind was as good as an invitation -- and what did Fraser expect, leaving him alone like that? -- so he moved his bag, opened the lid and peeked inside.  
  
He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but what he got was a couple of old cigar boxes and a shoe box, a stack of old books, and a white-ish furry thing that turned out to be some sort of bear-related stuffed animal when Ray picked it up.  
  
"My mother gave that to me," said Fraser behind him, and Ray had a small heart attack. He tried to get up and pretend he hadn't just been snooping, but Dief launched himself from the doorway and knocked him over.  
  
"Gmmmph," said Ray, which was all he could manage without getting a mouthful of dog. Lucky for him, Fraser understood and hauled Dief back. "Hey," Ray said when he could. "Uh, sorry about ...." He waved the bear to indicate the open trunk.  
  
Fraser shook his head. "Perfectly understandable," he said. "I'm sorry we left you alone. I told Dief he should stay with you, but he hasn't been hunting in so long .... My apologies if you were frightened."  
  
"As if," Ray said, deciding not to tell Fraser about the killer squirrel. "Where the hell are we?"  
  
"We are in my cabin," Fraser said simply, as though that answered the question.  
  
"What the hell am I doing here?"  
  
"Ah," Fraser said, and looked down at his feet, then back at Ray. "It's for your own good."  
  
Which made no sense. Typical. "Keep talking," Ray said. "Don't stop until you get to the part where you explain why you kidnapped me."   
  
"Mmm," Fraser said, and ... he was _stalling_.  
  
"You're stalling," Ray said, never afraid to go with the obvious. "You're doing that thing where you delay answering and try to change the subject and hope I'll forget what we were talking about, except it won't work, Fraser, 'cause all I have to do is look around and it's pretty clear we're not in Kansas anymore."  
  
"Well, actually, Ray ..." Fraser started.  
  
"Do _not_ take this opportunity to tell me that we're in Kansas, Fraser. For both our sakes."  
  
Fraser blinked. "Of course we're not in Kansas. I was going to point out we hadn't been there previously."  
  
Ray nodded. "Fair enough." He waited until it was clear Fraser wasn't going to say anything more. "Fraser. _Why are we here_?"  
  
And maybe that was a little louder then it should have been, judging from the way Fraser winced. But damn it, Ray wasn't going to apologize for getting ticked off. "Because a cabin in the woods was _not_ what I was planning when I got out of bed this mo--" He stopped. "Um, _yesterday_ morning?"  
  
Fraser took a deep breath and then let it out. "It's ... Wednesday."  
  
" _Wednesday?_ " Ray waved his hands around and only then noticed he was still holding the stuffed bear-thing. He bent and carefully put it back in the trunk, then turned back to Fraser. "It was Monday, last thing I remember," he said, in what he thought was an admirable display of not-losing-it. "How did I miss Tuesday?"  
  
"You were sleeping."  
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
Fraser nodded. "Do you remember what I told you after you'd been up for 48 hours straight?"  
  
"Sort of, I mean not word-for-word, but ... you said you understood wanting to see a case through, but that sooner or later I'd be forced to rest." Fraser nodded again. "Is that what this is? Jesus, I thought that was hypo-- ... hyper-- ... dammit." And he could see that Fraser really had learned a lot in the past year, because he didn't automatically insert whatever word Ray was reaching for, because he could see Ray was already pissed. Ray made a _come on_ gesture then, so he could spit out whatever it was.  
  
"Hypothetical?"  
  
"No, the other one."  
  
"Hyperbole?"  
  
"Yeah, _hyperbole_. I didn't think you'd actually _do_ it." He sat down on the end of the bed. "Does Welsh know where we are, at least?" he asked.  
  
Fraser was fighting a smile; Ray could tell. "This was partially his idea. He was quite worried about you, Ray. We all were."  
  
Ray could feel the mad seeping out if him like somebody pulled a plug. "Okay, so I guess you proved your point. Give me the keys, let's head on back home now."  
  
Fraser shook his head. "Oh, no, Ray. I can't do that. Not yet, at least."  
  
_Breathe, two, three, four_. "Why not?"  
  
"I made a promise to Lieutenant Welsh. Barring actual emergencies, we're staying for a week, or until I'm satisfied you're recovered."  
  
Ray flopped backwards onto the mattress. Fraser sat down next to him. "It won't be so bad, Ray. I brought cards -- we can play poker."  
  
Ray groaned.  
  
Fraser continued. "And the woods are really beautiful -- there's a small stream about half-an-hour's hike to the south."  
  
Ray rolled over and put his arms over his head.  
  
"Well then," Fraser said after a second, "I'll just let you get some more rest then." Ray felt the bed shift as Fraser got up. "Should I wake you for lunch?"  
  
"No," Ray said into the mattress.  
  
"You don't want lunch?" Fraser said, sounding confused.  
  
"No, I'm not going to rest," Ray said, and rolled onto his back again. "Yes to lunch; I'm starving. And two-handed poker is lame. You know how to play gin?"  
  
Fraser smiled for real then. "Indeed I do, Ray."  
  
  
***  
  
So Fraser made lunch, and they played gin. And then Fraser made dinner (rabbit stew, which wasn't as disgusting as Ray had thought it would be), and they played some more. After it got dark, Fraser lit a couple of lanterns he took off the mantelpiece, and they kept playing. Ray was ahead, but only just barely, when Fraser stretched and said, "That's it for me, I'm afraid."  
  
"What -- no, Frase, come on." Ray said. "It's not even late yet."  
  
Fraser shook his head. "We can continue tomorrow, if you want, but I'm going to bed." And just like that he stood up, took his bedroll from beside the couch, kick it open, and plunked himself down on it. "Go ahead and take one of the lanterns into the bedroom," he said. "And blow the other one out, if you would, please."  
  
Ray did, only because refusing seemed pretty childish. Yeah, he still wasn't thrilled about the whole boy-scout thing they were doing, but staying mad at Fraser was a lot of work and he was on vacation. So he got ready for bed and blew out his lantern and got under the covers and ... whoa. Dark. Quiet. Way too dark and quiet. Squirrels slept at night, right? He was almost positive they did.  
  
"Fraser?"  
  
Fraser's sleepy voice came from the blackness. "Yes, Ray?"  
  
"Are you, um, okay out there?"  
  
"I'm fine, thank you."  
  
"Yeah, okay, just, you know, making sure."  
  
There was a pause, then Fraser said, "How are _you_ doing?"  
  
"Oh, I'm good, I'm good," Ray said quickly. "Just thinking about squirrels. It's really dark out here at night, isn't it?"  
  
Ray heard a sigh, just a small one, and then rustling noises. When Fraser's voice came again, it was much closer. "Would you like me to sleep in here, Ray?"  
  
_God, yes_. "Well, if you want," Ray said, making it as casual as he could. "Since you're up and all." He heard the bedroll go _whooomf_ down by the foot of the bed and suddenly felt like maybe he could sleep after all.  
  
"The darkness is due to the cloud cover," Fraser was saying. "I'm afraid we may get rain tomorrow."  
  
"That's okay," Ray mumbled. "I like rain." And then he was asleep.  
  
  
***  
  
  
"God, I fucking _hate_ rain."  
  
Fraser looked up from his book. "Ray, please," he said.  
  
"What?"  
  
Fraser looked pointedly over at where Dief was sleeping in front of the fireplace.  
  
"Fraser, he's deaf, he's sleeping, and he is _not_ picking up bad language from me."  
  
"Well, I don't know where he's getting it, then."  
  
Ray ignored that and focused on the larger problem. "How can it rain for three days, huh? God hates me."  
  
"Once when I was stationed in Moose Jaw it snowed for a week."  
  
Ray waited but it seemed like that was it. "And?" he said, just to make sure.  
  
Fraser shrugged. "I'm afraid I enjoyed it. There's nothing quite like walking in the snow to make you feel alive."  
  
"Yeah, huh?" said Ray doubtfully. "What about walking in the rain? How does that make you feel?"  
  
"Don't be silly, Ray, I'm sure you've done it."  
  
"Sure, like, accidentally. When I had to. Not for _fun_."  
  
Fraser put down his book. "Let's find out, then."  
  
"What? No. We'll get soaked."  
  
"Yes, I'm sure we will," said Fraser patiently. "The human body is remarkably waterproof, though."  
  
Ray considered that. "You know, I used to think you were kind of crazy."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"Full-fledged looney-tunes."  
  
"Ah. Well, we could always play some cards ..."  
  
"Fraser, I never want to see another deck of cards as long as I live. So hey, let's do this thing." Ray walked to the door and opened it. It was still raining, all right, the kind that settled in and meant business. Warm, though, so that helped. He looked back at Fraser, who was unlacing his boots. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I see no reason to soak my clothes as well."  
  
"Yeah, but --"  
  
Fraser raised an eyebrow. Then he stood up and started to unbutton his shirt. And maybe it was just the cabin-fever talking, but Ray never could resist a challenge. Fraser stopped at his boxers, and so did Ray, and with a decisive nod of his head, he led the way out the door.  
  
The first few drop off the porch roof made him shiver and cringe, but when he moved out onto the grass it started to be just all-over wetness, and it felt kind of good. Weird, but good.  
  
Which sort of summed up his whole history with Fraser. He looked over to tell him so, and Fraser was looking at him like --  
  
Whoa.  
  
Like nobody had looked at him in a long time.  
  
Like he thought he probably used to look at Stella, back before they started going together.  
  
Like Fraser was _hungry_ , and Ray was filet mignon.  
  
And all that was in a split second, before Fraser turned away with his face all red. He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should go back inside."  
  
Ray snuck a peek at Fraser's face, and wow, 'sad' didn't begin to cover it. Well, sure, you let your best buddy know you got a jones for him, things get a little tense. Maybe awkward, maybe even ugly. Except ... Fraser needed to know that wasn't going to happen.  
  
"You trying to get out of this?"  
  
Fraser looked surprised. "No. I just thought perhaps you might have had enough."  
  
"I'll let you know when I'm through. Really should go for the whole enchilada, don't you think?"  
  
Because when you got right down to it, this wasn't like when he'd experimented in college. 'Two-beer queer' they called it, except sometimes it only took Ray one. This wasn't going to be a quick fumble in the dark. This was _Fraser_ , who made everything he touched both more complicated and more simple at the same time. And Ray had been waiting for a sign, and now he had one.  
  
He took two steps toward Fraser, who was now looking at him like he'd lost his mind. Just for a second, Ray thought he might have been mistaken about the other look ... but Fraser looked away again, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, and _bingo_ , that was the tell. Ray reached out and touched Fraser's shoulder.  
  
"Hey," he said, his voice feeling lost in the sounds of the rain on the leaves. "Hey, listen, I ..." And he stopped, because it wasn't working -- he wasn't the words-guy, he was the action-guy right now. So he took the final steps that brought him right up in front of Fraser, and he put his hands on either side of Fraser's face, and he kissed him.  
  
Ray could feel Fraser's arms un-cross, and he took the opportunity to move that much closer. Fraser tasted like rainwater and toothpaste, and when Ray slipped one hand around to the back of his neck, Fraser groaned and started to kiss him back. Ray felt Fraser's arms come around him, and _God_ , he was really holding on, like Ray might try to escape. Felt good, though.  
  
A raindrop slithered into his ear just then, and he shivered, and Fraser pulled back. Ray didn't let him get far, though.  
  
"So listen," he said. "You were right. I'm only saying it this once, but I thought you should know."  
  
Fraser's smile could have powered the whole city of Chicago. Ray enjoyed it for a second, and then kissed him again. "Let's go inside," he said. "I'm not tired anymore."


End file.
